Goodness and Mercy
Page 1
Also by Vanessa Davis Griggs
Redeeming Waters
Ray of Hope
The Blessed Trinity Series
Blessed Trinity
Strongholds
If Memory Serves
Practicing What You Preach
The Truth Is the Light
Published by Kensington Publishing Corp.
Goodness and Mercy
VANESSA DAVIS GRIGGS
Kensington Publishing Corp.
http://www.kensingtonbooks.com
All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.
Table of Contents
Also by Vanessa Davis Griggs
Title Page
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Redeeming Waters
Copyright Page
To Barack and Michelle Obama
for showing the world, in real life,
the type of love my fictional characters
George and Johnnie Mae Landris
have been showing people in my books for years.
To those who know or have known and experienced
what real and true love feels like.
Acknowledgments
I am always humbled and awed by God and all that He has done and is doing in my life. Thank You, God, for your faithfulness and for loving us so much.
To my mother, Josephine Davis: Yours was the first heart I ever heard, the heart of our God that I hear even now. Mama, you’ve always believed in me, and your belief has been a fuel that continues to propel me to keep moving forward in the work of the Lord. Thank you for always being there for me. I pray that you know (without a shadow of a doubt) that your labor in the Lord’s work has not been in vain. To my father, James Davis Jr.: my daddy, the man I grew up believing could do anything. You’ve taught me a lot, and not always by what you’ve said, but by the life you have lived before us. You don’t just talk about keeping on even through adversity or challenges. You’ve become a living example for all to see. I witnessed you having been knocked down. But, most important, I’ve seen you get right back up. Maybe not as strong as you were before, but still, you got back up. You didn’t allow things to keep you from “fishing.” You merely found another way to cast your line.
To my husband, Jeffery; my children, Jeffery, Jeremy, and Johnathan Griggs; my granddaughters, Asia and Ashlynn; sisters, Danette Dial and Arlinda Davis; brother Terence and sister-in-law, Cameron Davis; and brother Emmanuel Davis: Each and every one of you adds a special richness, individual to you, to my life that makes me smile. I can see just how good God really is. God has a call on each of your lives in a very special way. I’m thankful for the times we as a family have been blessed to enjoy together.
To Vanessa L. Rice: Who would have thought your reading my novel Promises Beyond Jordan all those years ago would have led to such a friendship! A special thanks to Vina Lavendar for the support in spreading the word about my books when no one much even knew who I was. Rosetta Moore: I know things are tough at times, but God promised never to leave us or forsake us. Continue looking to the hills from whence comes all of our help. Stephanie Perry Moore: You are such a special person. I know that God has great plans for you. I laugh every time you repeat the word I once spoke to you: completion. To Mary Monroe: We had such a great time at that restaurant (Nikki’s West) while you were here in Birmingham. What a blessing and a delight you are!
To Regina Biddings, Gregg Pelt, Irene Egerton Perry, Zelda Oliver-Miles, Linda H. Jones, Bonita Chaney, Ella Wells, Pam Hardy, Shirley Walker, Doretha White, Diann Cylar (and other members of the WBRT Society Book Club), Adrienna Turner, Ron Marshall of Sunday Morning Gospel Sounds 98.7 KISS FM, Sylviaette Simmons, Ms. Johnnie Hamby (you hung in there with me for as long as you could), and Stanley and Greta Hamby: I thank you for your support, encouragement, and for being there in your own ways cheering me on as I’ve continued to travel along my writing journey.
To my editor, Selena James: It was a joy working with you on this book. I appreciate you for caring the way that I see that you do. I especially thank you for allowing me to be me. That means more than you’ll ever know! To the wonderful staff of Kensington/Dafina: Thanks for everything! And thanks for yet another beautiful cover.
ReShonda Tate Billingsley, Angela Benson, and Cheryl Robinson: Thank you for the lovely words you wrote about me and my work that now grace this book. Angela, every time our paths cross, you never fail to bring a smile to my face. Thanks for sharing your gift of laughter. Thank you to the book clubs that choose my books, online sites, print media, radio shows, churches, and the church groups that have invited me (one way or another) into your lives. God’s rich with no-sorrowadded blessings to you!
It’s impossible for me to name each and every person who has touched my life in a positive way. If you have bought my books, read my books, told someone about my books, e-mailed me, called me, written me through regular mail, come to a book signing or one of my speaking engagements, then you are who and what has kept me going during those times when I might have wondered why I continue to do this. (I know you know that in this type of walk, things aren’t always easy.) You’re the blessing God blesses me with while I’m down here on earth. You give what I do meaning. And from the bottom of my heart, I thank you. Yes, God called me to do this. Yes, He keeps me and blesses me as I press onward. But you’re the icing on top. You make this journey that much sweeter. Continue to walk in God’s exceedingly, abundantly, above-all-you-can-ever-ask-or-think blessings.
Now, get comfortable, and let’s get started with Goodness and Mercy. I can’t wait to hear from you!
Vanessa Davis Griggs
www.VanessaDavisGriggs.com
Chapter 1
Come now, and let us reason together, saith the Lord: though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool.
—Isaiah 1:18
“If you’re here today,” forty-eight-year-old Pastor George Landris began, “and you feel there’s something missing in your life. If you admit that although there are billions of people on this earth, you still feel like you’re all by yourself—that sometimes it feels like it’s you, and you alone. If you feel as though no one truly loves you. If you’re fed up with being fed up.” He paused a second. “If you’d like to be born again . . . you want to know Jesus in the free pardon of your sins. Then I want you to know that your being here today is neither an accident nor a coincidence. I want you to know that it’s ti
me for a change! You see, I’ve been told that the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again but somehow expecting a different result.” He shook his head slowly, then took one step to the side.
“Well, to that someone who’s here today, your change has come. If you’re looking for change, change you can truly believe in, then the Lord is extending His hand to you today through me. He’s asking you, on this day, to accept His hand. I know I’m talking to somebody today. In your life, it’s time for a change.” Pastor Landris nodded as he narrowed his eyes, then ticked his head three times to one side as he smiled.
“Oh, I know we heard the word change a lot last year. We talked about change. Some of you even voted for change. Some of you voted for the first time in your life because of change. Well, on November 4, 2008, change took a step forward in these United States of America . . . a change that’s already had an impact on the world. But on this day”—he pointed his index finger down toward the floor—“on this Sunday, January 4, 2009, sixteen days before that embodiment of change is to be sworn in as the forty-fourth president of the United States, it’s time for your own personal change. A change, a wonderful change.”
Many in the audience began to clap while others stood, clapped, and shouted various things like: “Change!” “A wonderful change!” and “Thank God for change!”
Pastor Landris bobbed his head, then continued to speak. “For those of you here who are tired of fighting this battle alone, let me assure you that there is another way. And in case you don’t know or haven’t heard, Jesus is the way! He’s the truth, and He’s the light.
“And today—just as Jesus has been doing since before He left earth boarded on a cloud on His way back to Heaven, where He presently sits on the right hand of the Father—He’s calling for those who have yet to answer His call, to come. Come unto Him all you that labor and are heavy laden. Jesus desires to be Lord of your life. Won’t you come today? Won’t you come? Come and cast your cares on the Lord, for He cares for you. Oh, yes, He cares . . . He cares. He cares. He . . . cares.”
Pastor Landris extended his hand. He looked like someone waiting on a dance partner to take hold of his outstretched hand in order to continue the next step of a well-choreographed dancing routine.
Twenty-six-year-old Gabrielle Mercedes heard his words. She felt them as they pierced her heart. She doubled over as she sat in her seat. Quickly, she felt the warmth wash completely over her, starting at her head. It felt as though she was being covered with pure love and peace, as though buckets of warmth were being poured on her, the warmth quickly making its way down to her feet. Her feet heard the music inside of the words “Come and cast your cares on the Lord, for He cares,” and they began to move, to tap rapidly, all on their own.
The music that played inside her was not the usual music one might expect to hear in church. It was music that no words she knew could aptly describe—angelic. Her body instinctively knew what to do; her legs summarily stood her upright. She hurriedly, but gracefully, started across—one–two, one–two, side step, side step—from where she’d been sitting, quietly excusing herself past those who shared the row with her. Then, forward she glided, with long deliberate strides down a wide center aisle—flow, extend, now glide, glide, faster, faster—toward the front of the church building’s sanctuary. Everything happening before the right side of her brain was even able to effectively launch a logical and methodical discussion about any of this with the left side of her brain. She was moving forward, refusing to look back.
And when she shook the hand that continued to remain extended for any and all who dared to reach toward it, she didn’t see the man of God’s, Pastor Landris’s, hand. All she saw was the Son of the living God called Jesus, Emmanuel, the Prince of Peace, the King of kings, the Lord of lords, the President of presidents. She began to leap—higher, higher.
And as she’d shaken Pastor Landris’s hand, at least twenty other people also had come forward and stood alongside her. But she’d only felt the hand of God holding her up as she stood there and openly confessed she was indeed a sinner. She knew—without any trumpets sounding, any special effects, and any special feelings—that in that moment of her confession, she was saved. Saved by grace. Now.
Now faith is . . . now . . . faith is now . . .
And the feeling she did have? It was the Lord leading the dance of her life, whispering throughout her every being that she now only needed to follow His lead. She needed to allow Him to take her to the next step, and then the next one, and the next one, without knowing what the next step might be. Fully trusting His lead. One–two–three.
Oh, how Gabrielle loved to dance! But until this day, she’d never known the true grace in dancing. That amazing grace. God’s amazing grace. The feelings she had now were a by-product of the new knowledge she possessed: the knowledge of knowing Jesus Christ in the free pardon of her sins. All of her sins, every single one of them, Pastor Landris was saying, were officially pardoned. She was free!
“Pardoned—your slate, wiped cleaned,” Pastor Landris said to those who came up. “Your sins, totally purged from your record. It’s as though they never happened. God says your past transgressions have been removed as far as the east is from the west, the north from the south. All of your sins—the ones folks know about, and yes, the ones only God knows. Gone. Gone! Whatever sins were in your past, from this day forward, as far as the Lord is concerned, they’re gone.” Those standing were being signaled by a ministry leader to follow her to an awaiting conference room.
“Hold up a second,” Pastor Landris said, halting them before they exited. “I want you to say this with me: My past has been cast into God’s sea of forgetfulness.”
They did as he asked—some of them leaping for joy as they shouted the words.
“You are forgiven of your sins,” he said. “Look at me.” He waited a second. “And God is saying to you, don’t allow anyone . . . anyone, to ever bring up your past sins to you again. Did you hear what I said? Don’t let anyone use your past against you. If they bring it up, you tell them that it’s under the blood of Jesus now.”
The entire congregation erupted with shouts of praise as they stood to their feet.
Chapter 2
For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, saith the Lord, thoughts of peace, and not of evil, to give you an expected end.
—Jeremiah 29:11
“Do you have a Bible?” one of the ladies asked Gabrielle as they stood in the conference room where the new converts were taken after they left the main sanctuary.
“No, I don’t. But I can buy one,” Gabrielle said.
“Oh, we have one for you—a gift from the church.” The petite woman smiled as she handed Gabrielle a six-by-nine-inch maroon Bible. “I’m Tiffany Connors. I’m part of the ministry that welcomes converts who come to Christ through Followers of Jesus Faith Worship Center. Our goal is to ensure that you have as many tools as possible at your disposal to get you started in learning all you can about the Lord. Pastor Landris insists there’s nothing worse than having something new and either not receiving or not reading the manual that comes with it—oblivious to its features, benefits, and the instructions to operate it. And of course, any good manual contains troubleshooting information to help in understanding when something is not working properly, and what is needed to correct it. We believe there’s no better manual for Christians—novices and veterans alike—than the Bible.” Tiffany tapped Gabrielle’s Bible twice, then held out her hand for a handshake.
Gabrielle glanced at the Bible she’d been given. She smiled at Tiffany as they shook hands. “I’m Gabrielle Mercedes, and it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
Tiffany tilted her head in a quizzical way. “Is Mercedes your married name?”
Gabrielle smiled. She wasn’t offended or felt Tiffany was moving too quickly into her business. She knew exactly what was going through Tiffany Connors’s head. It was what she encountered a lot since s
he’d legally dropped her last name of Booker and adopted her middle name as her last. Most people could tell by looking at her smooth brown skin; hair that was, without fail or excuses, relaxed every four to six weeks to keep it from going back to its natural state of afroishness; and a signature behind that defined many a black woman as a black woman (there always being an exception to any rule, as folks like J.Lo have proven) that she was not Hispanic, as her last name might somehow suggest.
The next logical thought was that she, being a black woman, must have married someone with the last name of Mercedes to have acquired it. She could have easily explained how she ended up with it, but didn’t bother to. That would defeat the whole purpose of her having changed it in the first place.
“No, I’m not married, and I’ve never been married,” Gabrielle said. She just happened to look down and realized she was hugging her Bible. She let her arm down by her side, along with the Bible she held in her hand.
“Gabrielle Mercedes. Well, it certainly is a beautiful name,” Tiffany said. She glanced at her watch and grimaced. “Listen, I hope you don’t mind my having to leave so quickly—kind of drop the Bible and run—but I have to go pick up my children from children’s church so the workers there can leave.”
Gabrielle smiled as she tilted her head only slightly. “Forgive me, but did you say children’s church?”
“Yes. We have a church for the children. They call it children’s church even though it’s still part of this same congregation. There’s also a teen church with activities geared specifically for the teenagers and their style of praise and worship. Today was my day to work in this ministry. And since Darius, that’s my husband, didn’t make it to church today, I’m the only one available to pick up my little ones by the cutoff time.”